Silbury Hill

De: James Philip

Narrado por: Virtual Voice

There is a theory that the way the ‘time’ works, is that the past, literally, never goes away.

Might what we call ‘ghosts’ simply be the faint echoes of moments from the past. We are here now, possibly, our ancestors are still where they were, in their own time, as real as you or I, except separated from us by…time itself.

Have you ever felt the whisper of ancestral voices, a tingling of the spine, or just an ‘odd’ feeling standing, or walking through a ruined castle, or across a ritual landscape so ancient as to be alien? When we claim a spiritual, or an ethnological, cultural or emotional link to a past we can only dimly, if at all understand let alone reconcile to our contemporary lived experience, is it just wishful thinking, or something…real?

Walk in the footsteps of the barrow-builders of the Kennet Valley, visit a country graveyard, stand upon the time-rounded ramparts of an Iron Age hill fort, or hold a flint flaked by a Neolithic hunter five thousand years ago; soak up the ambience, allow one’s mind to quieted; is it even possible to feel…nothing?

Travel, look upon vistas as old as human kind, the traces of great, lost civilisations, or mountains, valleys through which rivers that have meandered and flooded over eons, and across plains where bears and mammoths once roamed millennia before Rome’s conquering legions marched; and tell me the past does not reach out and…now and then, touch you.

Silbury Hill is about those ghosts, those whispering spirits in the landscape. Perhaps, just perhaps, it might be that we are not quite so different, disconnected from our past or as deaf or blind to the natural world and its moods as we ‘moderns’ sometimes like to think we are…
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From the pen of the creator of the Timeline 10/27/62, New England and Europa Reich series a novella-length ghost story, if not for Christmas, then for the next equinox or solstice!

Enjoy!